


In My Memories

by octoberinlondon



Category: 13th Century CE RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberinlondon/pseuds/octoberinlondon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat was almost unbearable. Eleanor was used to it, it reminded her of her Spanish home. Right now, however, she wished the weather would show some mercy and return to its usual Englishness, as she liked to call it. All she wanted was a little cold breeze to relieve her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Memories

The heat was almost unbearable. Eleanor was used to it, it reminded her of her Spanish home. Right now, however, she wished the weather would show some mercy and return to its usual Englishness, as she liked to call it. All she wanted was a little cold breeze to relieve her. Eleanor threw the book away, she couldn’t concentrate right now. 

The child within her moved and kicked relentlessly. She knew she’d give birth soon. “Just a few more weeks, mi cariño. Just a few more weeks.” She had three happy and healthy boys in the nursery. She had done her duty, and the king and her husband had rewarded her with the most magnificent treatment. Edward had always done so. He treated her as if she was the holy Virgin Mother herself. She giggled at the blasphemy of the thought. 

Eleanor leaned against the pillows, thinking of the young boy who’d been too tall for his age. Her beautiful Edward. She had fallen for him rather quickly. She’d also fallen for his flaws, and she wouldn’t want any of his flaws to be gone. No, he wouldn’t be her Edward. Her wonderful Edward. 

“How I hate to be in confinement,” she grumbled, placing her hands on the rounding of her belly. “I know you do.” Eleanor jumped a little. Even though the voice was familiar, and the sound of it most welcome, he should not be here. “Edward!” she cried, opening her arms. He was with her in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I’ve bribed your ladies to be here. They are worse than any other watchdog,” he laughed and shifted his position to sit next to her. “Are you afraid they’ll tell the king,” she grinned, snuggling close to him. “Well, to be honest, yes. Father is terribly stubborn when it comes to being a bit more…progressed.” He sighed, shaking his head a little. 

Eleanor couldn’t help but smile. The few weeks she’d been without him had been terrible. She’d missed his smell, the look of his auburn hair in the sunshine, his laughter, and his warmth. He kissed her forehead and gently rubbed her belly, laughing as he felt the child kicking. “As impatient as its mother,” he murmured and quickly kissed away the protest that was forming on her lips. 

“The child is as bored as I am. I have read every book in this room almost twice, and stitching bores me terribly.”

“It bores you?”

“Yes, you know I prefer things that keep your mind on track. Stitching doesn’t. It’s just a boring repetition of movements.”

Edward began to laugh, prompting Eleanor to pout. He kissed her nose, glad to be able to do it again after all this time. He’d waited so long; he just couldn’t stand it any longer. It had felt different the last times…he was sure it had not taken as long as this time. 

“I will send new books to you, I promise.”

“Ah, thank you, mi amor!” 

He thought her smile was the best reward he could have asked for. He was suddenly reminded of the young girl with chestnut coloured hair. She’d been so upfront back then, it had almost scared him. She still looked at him the way she had when they’d first met. He had to admit, his love had required time to grow, but by now, it was as strong as the ancient trees of the English woods. He never wanted to be without her. 

“Whatever makes you happy, my heart.” 

Edmund, the youngest son of King Henry, and thus Edward’s brother laughed as he watched his brother pacing up and down. It still amused him, and it would probably never fail to do so.

“Calm down, Ned. You’ll walk a hole into the floor. It’s Eleanor’s sixth child, and you still behave like it’s her first.” 

Edward stopped to look at his brother. “Tell me, brother, how many times have you waited for a child to arrive?” 

“Since I’ve just been married, and my wife is far too young, I did not spend a single hour waiting for a child.” 

“See,” Edward nodded and continued to pace up and down. Edmund laughed, sipping at his wine. “We could bet whether it’s a boy or a girl,” he suggested, only to receive an annoyed grunt in response. “We already have three boys. I care little for that right now…Eleanor would love a little girl though, I’m sure.” 

Edward sighed, thinking of the girls they had lost early in their marriage. Eleanor had been so devastated; it had almost broken his heart. 

“Your Grace?” He jumped, hearing the voice of one of Eleanor’s ladies. She bowed, a smile on her face. “It’s a girl. A beautiful little girl. Your wife is already utterly besotted. Unfortunately, she refused to let go of the girl, so I couldn’t bring her with me,” she sighed. “But her Grace is longing to see you.”

Edward’s long legs shook as he took two steps at a time. He heard his brother laughing in the distance, but didn’t care at all about it. 

Eleanor whispered love declarations in her mother tongue to the little girl she held in her arms. She was beautiful, the most beautiful little girl she’d ever seen. _No, they will not take you away from me_ , she thought, kissing the tiny head. She knew what the English thought about her and her qualities as a mother, but in this moment, with this perfect, tiny human being in her arms, she did not care, would not care. 

She heard Edward’s heavy steps. _Your father will have to bribe everyone in this room, so they won’t tell the King about this._ She laughed, gently stroking her daughter’s dark hair. _You take after me. You are my sweetheart. Mi corazón. You are mine. My little girl. My perfect little girl._

Edward entered the birthing chamber. It was the first time he did so. He decided he would think about the money he’d have to use as a bribe later. It took some time until his eyes were accustomed to the darkness of the room. He thanked God for the candles close to the bed. 

Eleanor looked beautiful. She’d probably never been that beautiful. 

“My heart…” he murmured as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t let them take her away from me.” She smiled, rocking the tiny bundle in her arms. Edward slid a bit further, closer to Eleanor and his daughter. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Here!” Eleanor proved to be as upfront as she always used to be, placing the bundle into his arms.

Edward laughed, praying that she would never change. Looking at his daughter, he already knew what name would accompany her for the rest of her life. 

“Eleanor,” he murmured. 

“Yes, my love?”

“No,” he grinned, “her name is Eleanor…because she’s as beautiful as her mother.”

The young woman bit down her lip. She was glad as he finally kissed her. Yes, everything was perfect. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eleanor didn’t know why she thought about her daughter’s birth. Probably because everything had been different. Because Edward had come to her and they had defied the wishes of the King. 

She felt Edward’s hand resting on her forehead. So many years had passed and his touch was still the most comforting sensation she’d ever felt. He was worried. After all these years, he was still worried. They had welcomed children, and buried some of them, but they had Edward. He would follow his father on the throne, and Eleanor knew she’d leave something behind. 

“We probably should abandon this journey,” he murmured, pulling her close. Eleanor snuggled into his arms. She still did, and she still loved it. “No, no…we shouldn’t. Don’t worry about me, mi amor.”

“I have never told you how much I love it when you call me ‘mi amor’ my heart.” 

Eleanor smiled, taking his hand and kissing it. “I love you, Edward Longshanks, Hammer of the Scots.”

He laughed, amused by the tone of her voice. “And I love you, my Castilian beauty.” 

“Ah, I’m no longer beautiful,” she sighed, turning away from him. His hand on her shoulder stopped her. “To me, you’ll always be the most beautiful woman on God’s earth.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, afraid of its temperature, praying for his wife’s well-being. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edward’s limbs felt stiff. She was gone. His beautiful Eleanor was gone. He’d loved her so much. He’d loved her for so long. She was gone. His children had lost their mother. He had lost his wife, his lover, his companion, and his best friend. His lips trembled. For the first time in all these years, he, King Edward, Hammer of the Scots, felt the urgent need to cry. 

He thought about his son. Edward was only six years old. He wished he could spare his son from the pain. He couldn’t. He wished he could turn back the time. He couldn’t. He felt helpless, alone, broken. 

He took a deep breath before he touched the cold stone. “My heart,” he murmured, finally allowing himself the freedom to cry. He fell on his knees. Maybe he would never be able to get up, but he knew he had to. “Goodbye, my heart. We will see each other again some day. Wait for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous tumblr prompt. I hope it's not too inaccurate and not too cheesy. :)


End file.
